


Whispers of the Walkers

by Horacia



Category: Ghostbusters (2016)
Genre: F/F, Thriller, two awkward lesbians walk in a bar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-12
Updated: 2016-09-19
Packaged: 2018-08-14 14:17:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8017246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Horacia/pseuds/Horacia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Winifred Pickering is having enough trouble as it is, looking for love and friendship while attempting not to look like she’s trying too hard, when ghostly whispers start tickling her ears. What started out as your basic haunting suddenly turns to questions of hallucinations, unexpected revelations, and life or death climaxes when she calls her local heroes to save her bookshop.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Winifred Pickering

“Hey, Winifred.” said Robert. “I’m leaving. Because my shift is up, and I want to go home.”

“My shift is up too.” said Winifred.

“Yeah, but you’re the boss. So, it’s your duty to close up.”

“Wouldn’t that be the underling’s duty, so the boss can focus on more important things?”

“I hear your logic, but I’m already halfway to the door, so...”

His voice trailed off as he slid out the glass door, and into the night, the bell dinging on his way out.

Winifred shook her head. Robert was a smart-ass, and blunt, but he was also intelligent, and always put in the necessary effort, if on his own terms.

Winifred started the business of closing up her little book-shop. She switched the sign around to ‘closed’, locked the front door, and turned off half the lights so people would know not to come knocking.

She took a moment to lean against the door-frame, looking at her tired reflection. She was wearing her usual three-piece tweed suit, quite right for a book-seller, and her curly pixie cut had grown softer throughout the day, bringing out her dark eyes. She looked past her reflection, and into the street. Empty, other than a few parked cars. That was a rare occurrence for the usually busy street. Almost creepy.

A chill ran up her back, traveling along her spine, and making her shoulders shudder. She shook again, on purpose, to rid herself of the feeling.

 _That was a bit of an over-reaction,_ she thought.

She looked around the shop. The thrill of fear was still in her heart.

_Well, lets hurry this up, if you’re going to get the jibblies._

She checked the bathrooms to make sure no one was lurking. Then she started to empty the trash bins that lay around the store. When she got to the one under the counter, she had to bend low to reach her arm underneath the drawers.

She felt a breath in her ear- close, warm, and intimate.

She immediately spun around, clutching her heart as if to protect it.

There was no one there.

“...Hello?” she said, hesitantly.

The silence was pointedly empty.

The overhead fan was still on. Maybe it was some weird combination of that, and her overactive imagination. She _did_ spend a lot of time in her own head.

Half walking, half running, she took the garbage bags she’d collected out to the dumpster out back, and hurried back inside. She took the crash drawer out of the counter, carrying it to the safe they kept at the bottom of the cupboard in the back. She knelt in front of the safe, put the money inside, closed the door, and spun the dial.

She heard whispers in her left ear, indiscernible, but so close she could feel the tickle from the wetness of their tongue.

She jumped up, and ran out the back door to the shop.

Then she ran back, set the alarm, locked the door, and ran out to her car.

This had happened before. When she’d moved into her first apartment, Winifred had started hearing whispers like that. Soon after, the ghost had come out of hiding, scaring the crap out of her and her roommate. They hadn’t know what else to do, so they’d moved, at great cost.

 _I can’t do that now,_ she thought, as she drove away. _If I give up the shop, I’ll never get another one._

But nowadays, there was another option.

 _Come on. They’re celebrities._ she thought. _There’s no way they’re going to be in your price range._

But she decided it was best to check before crying, and giving up on her life.

When she got to her tiny apartment, and looked them up on her laptop with trembling hands, she learned the Ghostbusters cost about as much as the average exterminator. She felt an intense relief, followed by another intense bout of nerves.

This would mean she’d have to meet _her._ Jillian Holtzmann, the woman she’d been fawning over in her mind since she’d first seen her on the news. She’d get the ghost gone, but at the small price of an agonizing death of embarrassment. She always said the wrong thing around cute girls, and with a crush this big, it was practically guaranteed she’d make a complete ass of herself.

 _Alright, you’re overreacting._ she thought. _Relax. First off, it won’t just be you and her. You can be polite to her, but speak mostly to the others. Second, she’ll have a job to do, so just let the natural routine of work fall between you. The less you talk to her, the less chance you have of making a complete arse of yourself._


	2. Jillian Holtzmann

As Robert wrapped up his shift the next day, he nodded at the door.

“Oh, look.” he said. “It’s your lover.”

Winifred looked. Holtzmann stood on the other side of the street, and she was very much alone. They made eye contact, and she waved.

Winifred smiled in response, and spoke out of the corner of her mouth.

“Robert, stay. _Stay_.”

“I’m _tired_ , Winifred.”

“Robert, do me a solid, and _stay_.”

“Just sack up, man! It’s a pretty girl, not the boogeyman!”

“How you doin?’” a new voice said, smoothly.

Holtzmann was in the building.

“Good afternoon, Ms. Holtzmann.” said Winifred.

She caught Robert’s eye over the ghostbuster’s shoulder as he tried to weasel his way out.

“Robert was just saying how he’d like to-” she started.

“-go home.” he finished. “And sleep. Goodbye, Jill. Love the glasses.”

“Thanks.” she said, adjusting them.

He left, the door closing behind him with a ‘ding’. Holtzmann turned back, and something in her smile told Winifred she knew exactly what had just happened. Great. So, this was Jillian Holtzmann. She looked even more striking than she did on the tv. Her bright hair, and soft skin reduced everything around her to background.

 _Alright, Winifred, you are going to play it cool if it kills you,_ she thought.

“Just _can’t_ get good help these days.” said Holtzmann.

Winifred closed the book she was holding with a snap, and pointed at her.

“This is true.” she said. “Are the rest of you coming, or-?”

“Don’t need ‘em.” said Holtzmann. “I mean, if the thing doesn’t even have the guts to come out and face you, it’s weak as hell. Probably can’t even move things on this plane, but still, not good for the old ticker.”

Winifred nodded, emphatically. “Indeed.”

Holtzmann started walking around the bookstore, looking up the stacks.

“Say, do you got nonfiction here?” she asked.

“Not as much as fiction, but a respectable amount.”

“I got a friend who’d really dig this place. So, Pickering, where’d you hear this ghost?”

“Well, I heard it strongest in the back, if you’ll follow me.”

“Oh, you take me anywhere you want, sweetie.”

_Don’t get excited. She flirts with every female she comes across._

“Toronto?” asked Winifred. “Costco?”

Holtzmann drew level with her, and narrowed her eyes. Then she went ahead, as if she were above her.

“Best Buy?” Winifred added.

There was a brief silence as they walked down the hallway, a silence that Winifred felt the need to fill.

“You know, I was surprised by how cheap you are.” she said.

Holtzmann put a hand over her heart.

“Excuuuse me?” she said, faux mortified.

“Yes. Have some self-respect.” said Winifred, rolling with it. “But really, I see you ladies everywhere, but you still have affordable rates?”

“Well, you got it right there, Picker-ling. We’re everywhere, so we can afford to be affordable. Gotta help out the little guy.”

“That’s nice.”

“We thought so.”

“Here we are.”

They’d reached the back.

“No, wait.” said Winifred.

She knelt in front of the safe.

“ _Here_ we are.”

Holtzmann knelt beside her, and pulled out a little handheld device, with still tendrils coming from the handle. The tendrils lit up red when she turned it on, spinning, but staying together at the ends where their tips glowed blue. She stretched out her arm, slowly waving the device in front of them, over Winifred’s head, then turning so she could scan around their backs.

“Nothing,” she said, “but nothing don’t mean nothing. C’mon, lets explore.”

And so they walked all around the back room, the front room, the hallway, and the bathrooms. Winifred wouldn’t know what to look for, even if the device did pick something up, but the longer it showed no obvious change, the more awkward she felt.

“Yo. Professor.” said Holtzmann, making her look up from her reverie of shame. “Does this place have a basement?”

Oh, yeah. The basement they never used, because they never had enough backlog to justify it. The basement that gave them both the willies.

So, basically, a painfully obvious hidey-hole for a ghost.

Winifred felt the warmth of a blush creeping into her cheeks, and casually looked away as she spoke.

“Yes, we might have one of those.” she said.

Holtzmann grinned at her embarrassment, and clapped her consolingly on the shoulder as she moved past her.

“Bet you ten quid it’s down there.” she said.

“No.” said Winifred. “I’m poor. Also, this is America.”

Winifred led her to the basement, which was a set of wooden stairs descending into a cold, pitch blackness. Winifred felt along the wall, and flipped the switch. The bare bulb flickered, and lit with a dim glow that didn’t quite reach the corners of the basement.

“You’d better stay up here, Professor.” said Holtzmann.

“No argument from me.” said Winifred. “Where’d you get Professor from? Is it the tweed?”

“And the words.” said Holtzmann, as she made her way down the stairs. “You use the formal ones. In a good way.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

Her nerves were cranking up the further Holtzmann descended.

“Don’t die!” Winifred said, cheerfully.

“If I do, I’ll be back to haunt ya.”

“Then you’d be a reverse Ghostbuster. That’s- that’s the opposite of your job.”

Holtzmann chuckled. She’d reached the bottom. She stretched the turning detector in front of her, and started walking around the room. Winifred’s body was straight as a board the whole time. She was just waiting for the moment when the ghost would burst out of the floor, and make them both jump out of their skin.

But Holtzmann kept walking. And the detector kept not detecting.

Winifred caught a glimpse of Holtzmann biting her lip. She herself felt terrible. What if she thought Winifred was a creepy fan who’d called her for nothing? What if she thought she was crazy?

Holtzmann turned, awkwardly, to look at her.

“Eh,” she said. “You got any more rooms I can look at?”

 _Kill me now,_ thought Winifred.

“No.” said Winifred. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s going on.”

Holtzmann looked at her for half a second longer than was needed, then nodded. Winifred felt relieved, sensing she’d just been sized up, and deemed truthful. Holtzmann started making her way back up the stairs. Winifred stood to the side so she could pass before she even got close.

“Don’t worry about it, Giles.” said Holtzmann. “It’s a hundred percent likely that it’s a wily little booger that likes to watch us chase our own tails.”

She stopped when she was level with Winifred.

“I’m gonna get the rest of the gang, come back tomorrow, and do a deep scan.” she said. “Sound good?”

Winifred shifted.

“I was going for more of a Remus Lupin vibe, but Giles works too, I guess.” she said.

Holtzmann smiled, patted her shoulder again, and passed her.

Winifred looked back down into the basement. It was spectacularly empty. She reached along the wall, and turned off the light.

The moment the room was enveloped in darkness, she heard the hissing, tickling whisper again. She jumped back, clutching at her right ear, and turned around.

Holtzmann was still heading for the door. She’d obviously heard nothing.

Winifred turned back to the basement, still hearing the whispers despite her covered ear. She lifted her leg, closing the door with her shoe.


	3. The Girl Who Cried Ghost

There was the click of car doors as they all climbed out of the new Ecto-1.

“Yeah, something powerful enough to evade the sensor isn’t likely to hide and whisper, Holtz.” said Abby.

“Right. You sure this isn’t just another one of your fans?” said Patty.

That was true. Most of her fans were amazing, but every once and a while you’d get a girl that was a bit over-enthusiastic, and cried wolf under false pretenses. But they were usually pretty easy to spot, because they’d find some under handed way to ask for her specifically.

“Very sure.” she said. “Well, no. I mean, who wouldn’t be a fan? But I’m about 98.5% sure she isn’t lying.”

She looked at Patty over the rim of her spectacles.

“It’s in the eyes.” she said.

Patty gave Erin a look. Holtzmann narrowed her eyes, wondering what it meant, and opened the door to the bookshop.

Winifred looked up at them from the display she was working on. She’d forgone a blazer today, leaving just the figure hugging tweed vest over her button up shirt. Holtzmann was too busy casually admiring the view to note the look of confirmation Patty and Erin were exchanging.

“Good evening, ladies.” said Winifred. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll just…”

She moved past them, changing the ‘open’ sign to ‘closed’. She turned back to them, and Abby stepped forward to shake her hand.

“Hello, Winifred.” she said. “I’m Abby. This is Patty, Erin, and of course you already know Holtzmann.”

Holtzmann raised her hand, fluttering her fingers in a wave. Winifred smiled.

Abby lifted one of their deep sensors- a red, pulsating dial, with short, metal legs.

“We’re just gonna put these all over your place, and do that deep scan.” said Abby.

“I made those.” said Holtzmann, and winked at her.

“Yeah.” said Erin. “You make everything.”

“If there’s a ghost in here, we’ll find it.” said Abby.

" _When_ there’s a ghost in here, we’ll-” Holtzmann started to correct. “The ghost is _already_ here, and we’ll…”

She flashed Winifred a smile, and pointed at her, and that made everything better.

Winifred pointed back at her. Holtzmann noted that the book-keeper was seemingly unflustered by the beam that sent other girls stuttering.

“Will that take a while?” asked Winifred.

“Maybe fifteen minutes.” said Abby.

“Good. When you’re done placing them, I’ll have some lemonade, if you’re interested.”

“Pink?” asked Patty.

“Of course.”

“Um, _yes_. Thank you, Winifred. And once the scanner picks up this ghost, you make sure and get out.”

 _Oh, yeah,_ Holtzmann thought.

She hadn’t thought to mention that before, because the average client was already gone by this point. They didn’t _want_ to be there for the horror and the slime. But Winifred didn’t seem to see them just as service workers.

After an interlude of putting a pulsating sensor in each room, they returned to the front of the shop, Patty with a stack of books in hand.

“I know the shop is technically closed, but-” she started.

“No, I can run those up for you.” said Winifred.

“Here.” said Holtzmann. “Throw this in for the labrador.”

She tossed Patty a beginner’s cook book. Kevin had gotten really into baking lately, and had managed to produce some halfway edible sugar cookies.

“Oh?” said Erin. “You finally warming up to our receptionist?”

“I just want cake.” said Holtzmann.

“Shut up.” said Patty. “You love our puppy.”

“Eh.” said Holtzmann, tipping her hand from side to side.

Her gaze floated back to Winifred, who was smiling at the interaction. When she caught Holtzmann looking at her, she resumed a neutral expression, handing Patty her receipt, and books in a bag.

Soon after, she started pouring everyone lemonade while Holtzmann surreptitiously looked over Abby’s shoulder. No results, but the scan wasn’t completed. There was still hope.

Winifred had given Patty a cup, and was now giving Erin hers.

“Oh.” said Erin. “Thank you. So, uh, what made you want to run a bookshop?”

As Abby was focused on the scanner results, Winifred put a cup down within her reach. Abby gave her a grateful nod.

“I just _love_ reading.” said Winifred.

Patty nodded, solemnly.

“I hear you.” she said.

“Also, Bookshop Owner sounded like a wonderful aesthetic.” said Winifred.

Holtzmann took the offered cup, deciding at the last second not to go for the classic finger brush. She was actually having trouble working out whether this girl was interested in her or not.

“Ditto.” she said. “I got umpteen degrees mainly for these sweet specs.”

Winifred chuckled, her suave bearing dropping for a moment, and Holtzmann grinned.

 _Naw, I got her,_ she thought.

She looked back at Abby, and caught her giving Erin a grim look. Holtzmann didn’t have to look at the screen to know that the scan was finished, and had yielded nothing. She scratched the bridge of her nose.

“BUSTER MEETING!” she shouted.

Winifred and Erin jumped.

“Oh, sorry.” said Holtzmann. “Pickering, if you’ll just excuse us for a moment.”

“Oh…kay.” said Winifred, nonplussed, as Holtzmann corralled her teammates into the far corner of the room.

“Alright, let me see that.” Holtzmann whispered.

She took the screen from Abby, flicking through it.

“Well?” said Abby.

“Nothing.” she said, regretfully.

She’d wanted to believe there was a flaw in her equipment, but on the other hand, she’d wanted to believe nothing else less in the entire world.

“Holtzy, now you know I don’t want to say this, but she’s literally telling us she’s hearing voices.” Patty whispered.

Holtzmann looked at the others’ expressions, then shook her head with a bewildered smile.

“Guys, c’mon.” she said. “What are we built on? We’re supposed to be the ones who believe people when no one else does.”

“No ones saying she’s lying.” said Abby. “And trust me, I don’t like this either. But we’ve exhausted every option.”

Erin said nothing, but looked particularly uncomfortable.

“You’ve _met_ her.” said Holtzmann. “ _Talked_ to her. Now, look at her, and tell me that’s not the sanest person you will ever meet.”

A fast movement drew their eyes. Winifred was making a frantic swatting motion around her ear, as if a fly had flown into it. She ground the heel of her palm into her ear.

“ _Shut up_.” she whispered.

Then she spotted Holtzmann looking at her, smiled, and waved.

Patty looked back at Holtzmann as if to say, ‘See?’

“Maybe… maybe we could camp out.” said Erin. “See if anything pops up.”

“Or _maybe_ we could get this girl some help.” said Patty. “And I’m not saying that in the, ‘oooh, that girl needs help’ way. I’m saying that lets get this sweet girl the help she needs to get better.”

“We’ll just tell her the results, and let her draw conclusions for herself.” said Abby. “She’s an adult, and it’s not our business to go recommending therapy to our customers.”

Erin looked relieved. Holtzmann didn’t like this, but she liked it better than the other option. At Abby’s nod, they started heading back towards Winifred, who was now unashamedly holding her hands over her ears. Holtzmann ended up in front as they walked. She hoped this didn’t mean she’d have to be the one to break it to her. She was relieved when Abby started to speak.

“Ms. Pickering-” Abby started.

Winifred burst forward, and pushed Holtzmann back. A blue blur emerged from the floor, right where Holtzmann had been standing a moment ago. The ghost shoved Winifred as she passed, making Holtzmann scramble to keep her upright. The deep sensors started sounding, all throughout the house.

“HOLY HELL!” Patty shouted.

Holtzmann was never happier to a ghost in her life. Erin was actually smiling.

The ghost was a young teen, with curled, fifties hair, and polka dot blouse. Her face was horrifically marred by a bullet. Winifred was fixated on it, frozen. The ghost flew wildly about the room, screaming, and clutching at her head. She made a sudden dive, knocking over a pile of books close to them. Winifred jumped back, clutching her heart.

“Holtz!” Abby called.

If they all started firing in here, they’d wreck the place. She was the best shot. Holtzmann tapped her arm cuff, releasing her two smaller handguns. She’d only need one. She shot at the arm of the ghost, who, in her effort to tug herself free, ended up tangling herself within the beam. Holtzmann pulled like she was releasing a Battling Top, and the ghost was disintigrated as the beam ripped through her. The moment she was gone, Holtzmann stopped firing, the handgun retreating into her pack.

The alarms had stopped.

“You’re getting scarily good at that, you know.” said Abby.

“Yeah, I know.” said Holtzmann.

“It was real!” said Erin. “I knew it was real! Winifred-”

They turned to Winifred, who was alternately gathering the books the ghost had toppled, and rubbing at her ear. She didn’t look relieved at all. She looked like she was working herself into a panic.

“Winnie?” said Holtzmann. “You okay?”

Winifred’s hands were shaking. She kept dropping the books as she hurried to pick them up. She was speaking quicker and louder, like she wasn’t registering her own voice.

“It’s not gone.” she said. “I don’t know why it isn’t. It’s gotten _louder_. Not like when she was about to grab Jillian, but louder than before that. You all really can’t hear it? It’s like-”

She made an indiscernible ‘ _psspssp_ ’ sound, her fingertips fluttering by her ear to indicate the tickling sensation.

“I’m sorry.” said Erin, looking at her with sympathy. “But there _was_ a ghost here. This means something.”

“Nothing again on the scanner.” said Abby.

“Oh, no. I was wrong.” said Patty. “Or at least, I shouldn’t have dismissed the whispering thing. Somehow, you know when a ghost’s coming before it manifests. I mean, how’d you know to save Holtzy?”

“Thanks for that, by the way.” said Holtzmann, offering her a smile.

She saw Winifred notice it, and try(unsuccessfully) to calm down.

“The whispering became intense, but it changed directions at the last second.” Winifred said. “It was coming from under the floor.”

Patty turned to Abby.

“Let me read up on the history of this place.” said Patty. “ _Something’s_ gonna turn up.”

“You all really can’t hear it?” said Winifred.

It was soft, and tinged with despair. Holtzmann felt a surge of sympathy. She approached Winifred, and slung an arm around her shoulders, trying to bring a lighter mood.

“Not a peep, Professor.” she said. “But don’t worry about it. It’s a learning experience for us too. Just don’t tell our customers that. Say-”

She turned to the others.

“-why don’t I get our girl here a night cap to kill the jibblies, and you guys go start researching?”

“You could help research too.” said Erin, but she didn’t seem really annoyed.

“Whoops!” said Holtzmann, tugging Winifred with her. “But look at that! We’re already going.”

“Winnie, where are your keys?” called Abby. “We’ll lock up.”

“Second drawer to the left.” Winifred replied, over her shoulder. “Thank you!”

“No problem!”

The door ‘ding’ed shut behind them.


	4. Tea and Chips

“One second.” said Holtzmann, when they were outside. “Hope you don’t mind a little strip tease.”

Winifred shook her head, not calm enough to make a joke about it.

Holtzmann left her equipment and jumpsuit in the car, leaving her in a loose, faded-black button up, and tan shorts, a large belt buckle with an arched lady’s leg over it being the most prominent feature.

“After me.” said Holtzmann, and began leading her down the road.

It didn’t take long before they came across a pub. Winifred tried to use the time to calm down, but she felt a scream welling up inside her. The scare from the ghost, the frustration of hearing more, but not seeing them, of the others thinking she was insane or a liar, and the embarrassment of her cowardice/her crush all had her insides twisting in a cloud of toxic emotion. It reminded of her of that time she’d had a blow out on the highway. She’d been shaking then too, thinking of every possible thing that could be her fault right now. Holtzmann glanced at her.

“Damn, you're tight, Professor.” she said.

She steered Winifred into the pub by her shoulders, kneading them as they went.

“Here. Alcohol. Get.” she said.

Holtzmann sat her down at one of the round tables, returning with a fruity looking drink for her, and a long island iced tea for Winifred. She wondered if that was a comment on her professor vibe.

“Thank you.” said Winifred, and gratefully took a large gulp.

“No problem, sweetie.” said Holtzmann. “Just try and take it easy. My friends’ opinion of my dating life is bad enough without them thinking I’m trying to get you drunk.”

Dating life. Was this a date? She’d been too preoccupied by her stress to consider it. She laughed, lightly, to cover the pause of this thought.

 _Fill the silence before it happens,_ she thought. _Don’t let this get awkward._

“Apologies for panicking back there.” she said.

“Is _that_ what you’re tense about?” said Holtzmann. “Look, we all freak out. You should hear how Patty screams sometimes. And Erin! Speak a bit louder than usual, and she jumps like a collapsing giraffe.”

“Not you, though.” Winifred noted, over the rim of her glass. “Nothing seems to phase you.”

“Trust me, that was _built_. You don’t go through highschool being like me, and not develop a good imitation of a thick hide.”

Winifred could imagine. It was well known that Holtzmann’s toys sometimes went horribly wrong in the development stage. She could just imagine a young Jillian, getting glares for continually blowing up the school lab, plus a side of extra hate from the boys for being unavailable.

“Do your teammates make you feel like you have to put that up?” she asked.

“Oh, no.” said Holtzmann. “I mean, they harp sometimes, but they’re a good group of gals. It’s just… when you’ve been doing that for so long, it’s hard to learn to put it down, you know?”

She took what started as a normal sip, and ended as a gulp as big as Winfred’s. Despite the casual way she’d revealed these things, it was clear she was now uncomfortable, realizing she might have over-shared by accident. Winifred felt the need to set her at ease.

“Well, _my_ childhood was perfect.” she said.

Holtzmann chuckled.

“Yeah?” she said, grinning.

“Yes. I mean, I was banned from all the swimming parties, because people equated lesbian to predator, but other than that, I was a superb student with immense potential.”

“Oh, really? What happened?”

Winifred laughed, a little too fakely.

“Oh, shit, something _did_ happen.” said Holtzmann.

“It wasn’t that serious.” said Winifred. “My parents wanted me to change the world, but when I got to college, I realized I didn’t want to go through a stressful schooling to go live an equally stressful life. All I wanted was a wife, and friends to grow old with. So, I dropped nearly everything, and left with just enough knowledge to convince employers I wasn’t inept.”

“Ain’t nothing wrong with that, if that’s what you want.” said Holtzmann.

“Yes, except now I can’t _find_ these friends.” said Winifred.

“ _Right?_ ” said Holtzmann, nodding. “It’s a lot harder than people think.”

“ _Yes_. I mean, I have acquaintances by the barrel, but they’ve made it pretty clear their interest is only polite.”

“What about your wife hunt? Pretty young tweed sporter like you must have a lot of options.”

Winifred looked away for a moment. On one hand, there was such a thing as sharing too much too soon. On the other hand, this conversation was becoming immensely cathartic.

“...Shall I tell you something awkward?” she said.

“Yes, I shall use it to blackmail you later.”

“I’m apparently shit with signals.” 

“Oooh, Professor.”

“Yes, I can curse too. I’ve had this happen...four times, I think? I’ll meet a girl, think she’s flirting with me, and then a month later, I find out she’s either straight, or uninterested. So, I kind of just...stopped looking. I’ve had my fill, you know? I’m satisfied on the embarrassment front.”

And now the gist was she was worried she’d wasted her life for a future that wasn’t going to happen.

“Well, _I’m_ basically a chick magnet.” said Holtzmann.

Winifred grinned.

“I walked right into that one.” she said.

“Yeah, I got women throwing themselves at my feet, coochie first.” said Holtzmann. “They really dig the whole lesbian Tony Stark vibe. Of course, they are less hot about the repressed insecurity, and various explosions.”

“Well, who wants to date a real person?” said Winifred. “What would be the point of that?”

“ _Right?_ ”

“ _So_ right!”

“You’re looking pretty green, Winnie. You wanna go home?”

“Yes, that’s probably best.”

Holtzmann nodded. “Lets go before that guy realizes I used his tab.”

It was only as they were hurrying out that Winifred had remembered she actually hated that nickname. It was the one the popular girls at school had dubbed her when they decided ‘Winifred’ was too ugly. But it didn’t sound condescending coming out of Holtzmann’s mouth. It sounded affectionate.


	5. The Gamble

Winifred kept the shop closed the next day, giving Robert paid leave. Sassy as he was, she didn’t want to endanger him if the ghost decided to make another appearance. Around noon, she got a call from Holtzmann.

“Heyyy...it’s me. I mean, it is I. The Holtzmann. Jils.”

She was talking odd, and stiltedly, as though she was nervous.

“Anywaaaay, come to our place, if you wanna… No, I mean, we have some information that’s very relevant to your case.”

So, she closed the shop, and drove over to the Ghostbusters HQ. She’d seen pictures, but the red bricks of the tall, three story building were a lot handsomer in person.

She knocked on the large, red door. It was opened by a broad, blonde man in glassless glasses, and an apron.

“Hello!” he said. “I’m Kevin.”

“Winifred.” she said.

“What?” he said, tilting his head forward as if he wasn’t sure he’d heard right.

“That’s my name.” she explained.

“No, nice try.” he said, grinning. “That’s the kid from the aardvark show.”

“I know, but it’s also me.” she said, smiling in amusement. “I’m Winifred Pickering. Maybe they mentioned I’d be coming?”

“Pickering…” he said. “Pickering...Oh! Pickels! Yeah, yeah, they did say something-or-other Pickels would be stopping by. Come inside.”

He moved aside, and she stepped in. Something about the ample space, gleaming green pillars, and misty gray walls added a quiet magic to the place.

“They’re all upstairs in the library.” said Kevin. “Wait a sec. I’ll come with you.”

He returned with a tray of sugar cookies, and led her up the stairs to the second floor. Half the room was devoted to bookshelves, and the other half was dedicated to work tables, full of gadgets, half done.

“Cookies are done!” said Kevin. “Oh, and Pickels is here.”

“Winnie!” 

Holtzmann slid her feet off the table, and approached her.

“You met Kevin! I’m so sorry.”

“Oh, no.” said Winifred. “He was very sweet.”

“Thank you, Kevin.” said Abby.

“Aren’t you going to try them?” he said.

The Ghostbusters looked expectantly at Erin, as if it was her duty. Erin tried one. She looked surprised, then tried to mask her surprise.

“These are lovely, Kevin.” she said.

At that, the other Ghostbusters surged forward to grab some.

“My perfect streak continues!” said Kevin. “Okay, you guys have fun. I’m gonna go finish my toothpick castle.”

Kevin exited.

“Okay, so we were working off the theory that you have some latent psychic abilities. It’d take a lot more research for us to get a clear picture of how legitimate psychics function.” said Abby. “Some of their stories seem plausible, but then they’ll swear up and down that some clear hack is telling the truth, and it all gets muddied up together. But there are plenty of accounts of people hearing whispers like you, for what it’s worth.”

“Alright.” said Winifred.

That _did_ feel good. Made her feel like less of a fraud if it wasn’t just her. She went up to Patty, who had books and papers laid out on a table.

“Are all these books yours?” she asked.

“You bet.” said Patty.

“Jillian?” said Winifred. “I’m abandoning our quasi-flirtation for Patty. She’s my girlfriend now.”

Patty laughed, while Holtzmann nodded, faux solemnly.

“No, no, I understand.” said Holtzmann.

Winifred turned back to Patty, trying to act cool and collected, even though her heart was hammering now that she’d just openly acknowledged her and Holtzmann’s flirtation.

“What do you have?” Winifred asked.

“So, before you bought that little corner, it was a thrift shop, as you know, but before _that_ , it was a bath and body works.” said Patty. “But before _that_ , it was a comic book store. But before **that** , it was a home. A two story house, before it got knocked aside in the name of retail. You ever heard of the Walker Family Murders?”

“No.”

“Don’t worry about it. Neither did we, until this. Have a cookie. This is gonna get dark.”

Winifred had one. It was pretty good. Light, sweet, and just the right amount of buttery.

“So, this family lived in the late fifties, and went as bad as they could.” Patty continued. “Someone would piss them off, then the kids would befriend them, acting as if they were hurt, or lost, or otherwise needed help getting home. Then mom and pops would invite them inside for tea, to show their appreciation, and they’d chop them up in the basement, and scatter them all over town. Anyway, the cops started to get more and more dirt on them, until one day they came pounding at their door with a warrant. So daddy dragged everyone down to the basement, shot his family, and then himself before the cops could get down there. And lookie here.”

Patty showed her a family photo, pointing out one of the daughters. It looked just like their ghost, but with her face unmarred.

“We think they’re acting up again because their death anniversary is getting real close.” said Patty.

Winifred got a sickly feeling at the story of the Walkers, but she was also greatly relieved that the Ghostbusters were now taking her worries as fact.

“What’s the plan?” she asked.

The girls looked at Holtzmann, who looked at the ceiling.

“We were thinking it’d be best if you kept the shop closed for a few days, and we came and busted them as they came, one by one.” said Abby. “It’s not the most convenient course of action, but it’s the safest.”

“Or…” Holtzmann said.

“Really?” said Patty.

“Or what?” said Winifred.

Holtzmann ushered her closer with her head, and showed Winifred a lot of open tabs on her laptop, a machine that seemed to be held together with duck-tape.

“Lots of people say the same thing.” said Holtzmann. “A psychic gets hold of a dead person’s personal items- and I mean, _actually_ personal. Like something they were really attached to- and those gibberish whispers become understandable, and, what’s more, you can talk to them. I say we get you to ring the Walkers up so we can bust them all at once.”

At that, the other Ghostbusters started coming at Holtzmann from all side.

“It’s too dangerous.” said Patty. “We don’t know if she could get out in time after calling ‘em up.”

“Not to mention the absolute mess all those ghosts would make in Winifred’s little shop.” said Erin.

“Yeah, this isn’t how we do business, Holtz.” said Abby.

Holtzmann gave a flat smile as they spoke, tipping her head from side to side.

“Lets do it.” said Winifred.

They stopped talking to look at her.

“The other plan means losing a lot of business, and me on hairpins, checking the shop every other day for whispers.” said Winifred. “I’d rather get it all over with at once.”

Holtzmann was giving her an odd look.

“You can record me saying this, if you’re worried about a bad review.” said Winifred.

Patty started to shake her head.

“And I’ll dash out the moment they start emerging.” said Winifred. “Trust me, I’m terrified of these ghosts. I have no intention of sitting around.”

Erin opened her mouth to object.

“We’ll talk about it, and get back to you.” said Abby.

Winifred supposed that was the best she could hope for, and nodded.

“Let me walk you to your car.” said Holtzmann.

At that, Winifred got the odd feeling she was in trouble. Holtzmann was silent till they got outside, out of Kevin’s earshot.

“Hey, Winnie.” she said. “Gorgeous book woman. Why’d you...why’d you go with that plan? It’s something more than profit.”

“...You have a bad reputation for causing the occasional explosion, but as far as I’ve seen, you’ve never actually hurt anyone.” said Winifred. “I trust you.”

She realized that sounded pretty heavy.

“I mean, you’re an expert.” she added.

“You shouldn’t.” said Holtzmann.

There was a pause. Holtzmann folded her arms, shifted her feet, then looked back up at her.

“I was gonna work for CERN.” she said. “Then I caused a lab accident, and put a guy in a coma. He’s still under.”

“I’m sorry.”

“ _I’m_ sorry. I put a guy in a _coma_. I don’t know if he’s ever waking up, and if he does, he’s got years of his life gone. I try to listen to my friends when they tell me I’m going too far, but...I get carried away. And it keeps on happening.”

Winifred shifted from foot to foot. Then a quiet resolve rose up inside her.

“I’m not gonna pretend like that isn’t horrible.” she said. “But I see you, Jillian. You keep on failing, but you never stop trying. You’re never irredeemable if you’re always genuinely trying. Your friends are worried about their reputation, and my safety. But different customers call for different things, and your plan is the best plan for me. It’s good to be as safe as possible, but nothing genius was ever done without a little risk.”

Holtzmann looked off into the street to avoid eye contact. Winifred could see her restraining a smile.

“...Gosh.” she said. “Thanks, Giles. …I, uh, don’t know what to say, so I’m gonna go back upstairs.”

Winifred nodded, thoughtfully. “Yes, that’s probably best.”

Holtzmann smiled, then patted her on the shoulder.

“See you later, Winnie.”

“Till next time, Jillian.”

Winifred watched her go. She had all these reasons not to trust her. She was simultaneously too perfect and too flawed. So, why did she find a belief in her as solid as anything?


	6. Danse Macabre

They met at the bookstore the next night. The Ghosbusters had managed to wrangle up a worn copy of the Hobbit, a stuffed giraffe, a journal, and two wedding rings belonging to the Walkers.

“Just don’t ask how we got them.” said Holtzmann.

“Holtzy stole them.” said Patty.

“Because Patty will tell you.” said Holtzmann.

They went straight to the basement. The Ghostbusters descended the stairs, leaving Winifred at the top, with the items in a patched, cloth bag belonging to Holtzmann. She took out the Hobbit. She felt awkward, and looked at Patty.

“You got it.” Patty assured her. “Just like the website says. Push your stuff out, and pull their stuff in.”

“Alright.” said Winifred. “Alright, here we go.”

She sat down at the top of the stairs, and put her hands in the bag, running her fingertips over the items. She closed her eyes, and envisioned her mind as an empty room- pitch dark, and dusty. She drifted away, getting calmer and calmer.

She started to hear them.

Pushing her fear aside, she rubbed the items. They started to feel hot in her hand, except for one tiny patch of cold. Mentally, she stretched… and stretched… She caught something, and grasped it, hard.

 _Come out,_ she thought. _It’s time to come out. Tonight’s the only night you can be free._

The whispers started forming into words.

_Get away...have to get away...can’t get away...trapped..._

_That’s it,_ she thought. _Come here. Be free._

_Can’t....CAN’T..._

The whispers were getting louder, humming against her eardrums.

“They’re coming.” Winifred said, eyes still closed.

“Then go!” said Patty.

“Can’t...not yet…” said Winifred.

She pulled on the resistance she’d found. There was a quick phasing sound, and a blue glow on her eyelids as the ghosts manifested. She opened her eyes, and saw four women. The mother, two teenagers, and one eleven year old. The mother had an eye missing, one of the teens a forehead, and the girl a mouth. But where was dad?

The ghosts began screaming, flying around the basement, knocking crates over.

“Winnie! Go!” shouted Holtzmann.

Winifred sprang to her feet, and ran out the door. Then a deep, emotional agony made her stop in her tracks.

_I can’t do this...I can’t do this anymore...I hate myself..._

_He’ll kill her. He’ll kill Hattie!_

_I’m so sorry! I’m **so** sorry!_

The pain was as sharp and as sudden as if she’d lost someone. She felt her eyes welling up with tears.

 _They didn’t want to._ she realized. _He made them. He said they’d obey him, or they’d die too, starting with the youngest._

She turned back to the staircase. Two of the ghosts were already twisted in the coils, the others were still being aimed at as they flew, wildly.

“It’s not them!” Winifred called.

A new voice joined the whispers. Male, louder, and aggressive. She couldn’t understand him. He wasn’t emotionally attached to his ring, so she couldn’t speak to him. She made eye contact with Holtzmann.

“It’s all _him!_ ” she said.

She pointed. Holtzmann looked down, then was suddenly swept into the air as the father emerged, dragging her up with him. A hole was in the back of his head, from when he’d put the gun in his mouth. Their ghosts forgotten at Winifred’s words, and their colleagues plight, the Ghostbusters abandoned their targets. Once unthreatened, they huddled together, floating in the corner of the ceiling.

Holtzmann twisted, trying to shoot the ghost that had her by the pack. The dad charged, slamming her against the wall. Winifred flinched, sure that’d broken something. The pistol fell from Holtzmann’s hands, dangling from the wires attaching it to her pack.

“GET OFF MY FRIEND!” Patty shouted.

The remaining Ghostbusters aimed, wanting to shoot, but he flew wildly, keeping Holtzmann between them.

Winifred’s heart was hammering. She caught a glimpse of Holtzmann’s face. She looked dazed, blood running from her nose. Weakly, she reached for the button on her armband that would retract the pistols back to the pack, but before she could reach it, she was slammed into another wall.

It felt like the moment before a gun shot. Winifred didn’t know what the outcome would be, but this needed to be shut down, now.

She couldn’t think of what do do on her own. She needed help, and the Ghostbusters were occupied.

She looked back at the other ghosts. She reached into the bag, touching the items. Again, their whispers grew in her mind. She tugged them close, closed her eyes, and whispered back in her head-

_Help me!_

_Help me, help me, he’s going to kill me-_ the ghosts echoed.

Her words were being drowned out by theirs. They’d been stuck in the same pattern of fear and guilt for so long that they couldn’t break free.

Dad was trying to zoom out past Ghostbusters, towards the door.

“He’s making a break for it!”

“Cut him off!”

Patty and Erin blocked him, hurrying halfway up the stairs. He flew away, howling, and spewed green slime, but weirdly, only on Erin. Again, Holtzmann made a move for the button. He slammed her, back first, against the wall, and sparks flew from her pack. She seemed more distressed about the damage to her pack than her face.

 _DON’T LET HIM TAKE HER!_ , Winifred screamed.

The ghosts paused, and looked at her from safety of their huddle.

 _You’re just as powerful as he is now,_ Winifred thought. _The only reason you can’t defeat him is because you’re so scared. But you can stop him. You can fix this. You couldn’t save people in life, but you can save someone in death. Please-_

He made another break for the stairs. Patty let off a burst from her gun, hitting the ceiling, scaring him back. He screamed, and grabbed Holtzmann by the throat, squeezing in fury and frustration.

“ _PLEASE!_ ” Winifred shouted, audibly now.

The eleven year old floated a little away from the others, and stopped. The moment she did, he stopped choking Holtzmann. He was frozen, and Winifred realized he was more angry than before.

He dropped Holtzmann. The eleven year old flew down, catching her, and lowering her safely into Abby’s grasp.

Mr. Walker yelled at the girl. Winifred still couldn’t understand him, but she could feel the wall of rage, and knew the other ghosts felt it too. Then he charged toward the little girl, gesturing violently.

The wife and sisters flew forward. As a unit, the four women corralled him into a corner, even as he screamed and pushed.

“Get ready.” said Abby.

Suddenly, the four women parted. All of the Ghostbusters shot at once. Mr. Walker was enveloped in beams, and dissolved in seconds.

The Ghostbusters shut off their beams, looking at the remaining ghosts.

The Walker women looked at each other, and joined hands. Then they faded, gently, out of existence. Their captor was extinguished, and they were no longer tied into this half-life. They could move on to whatever came next.

Winifred ran down the stairs to Holtzmann’s side as she stood. Her hands fluttered near her face, then drew back. She wanted to touch her, but she was also scared of overstepping.

“Are you alright?” said Winifred. “Is anything broken? I’m so sorry. I didn’t know he’d-”

“ _Winnie_.” said Holtzmann, firmly. “Can you hear anything?”

“...Nothing.” said Winifred.

Tears of either relief and shock sprang up in her eyes.

“Nothing.” she repeated. “It’s silent.”


	7. Seeing the Future

They drove Holtzmann to the hospital. She protested, but Abby was very insistent, and the other Ghostbusters and Winifred nodded their support. Thank goodness, no major damage had been done, but Holtzmann was going to have dark bruises the size of dinner plates under her jumpsuit for a while, not to mention the broken nose. They gave her a large, stiff, flesh colored bandage for the injury, some pain meds, and recommended she take it easy for a while.

The next day, Winifred got a call inviting her back to HQ for pizza, and carrot cake courtesy of Kevin. She found Holtzmann seated in the comfiest chair, being handed everything by her colleagues before she could get up.

“Oh, crap, it was my turn to pay, wasn’t it?” said Erin, meaning the pizza.

“Don’t worry about it.” said Patty.

“Oh, goodness.” said Winifred. “I completely forgot to pay you! Let me write you a check. How much were your rates again?”

Erin, Holtzmann, and Patty looked at Abby with a wince.

“What?” said Winifred.

“You know, you were never supposed to get endangered, and you ended up saving Holtz’s life, so it’s on the house.” said Abby.

 _Oh, no. Not after Holtzmann got the seven hells beat out of her._ Winifred thought.

“But-” Winifred started.

“What?” said Holtzmann, reading the guilt. “You don’t think my life is payment enough?”

“I don’t know. Did you get an estimate?” said Winifred.

Holtzmann chuckled.

“This isn’t gonna be good.” said Patty, shaking her head. “You’re gonna make her worse. You encourage her too much.”

Winifred felt a small thrill at the implication that she’d be sticking around.

“Oh my gosh.” said Holtzmann. “You should join the team! Guys, psychic on the team? It’s a no brainer!”

“Yeah, that makes a lot of sense.” said Patty.

“Yeah, Winnie.” said Abby. “How do you feel about getting _paid_ to save Holtzmann’s life?”

“No!” Winifred said, at once. “No, no, no. I can barely function when I’m panicking. If I was on the front lines, my life would be one giant ball of stress.”

For a half second, she wondered if she was being too quick in throwing this opportunity away. But no. She’d known what she’d wanted for ages now. She didn’t want to be an action hero. She just wanted a good life.

“...But how about the psychic bookkeeper you go to for consults?” said Winifred.

“...That’s sounds really cool. I’m not gonna lie.” said Patty.

“See?” said Holtzmann, winking when she turned to look at her. “Told you you were Giles.”

“Does that mean you’re Buffy?” asked Winifred.

“Nah, ostracized genius?” said Holtzmann. “I was always more of a Willow.”

 _I am getting fucking **laid**_ , Winifred thought.

“…I don’t know what kind of subtle you think you’re all being right now, but it is not working at all.” said Patty, breaking up their gaze.

“Yeah, get a room.” said Abby.


	8. Don't Get Caught Alone

Holtzmann offered to drive her back to her shop where her car was parked. Winifred said she’d been planning to take a cab, and she didn’t want to make Jillian drive while she was still sore.

“Trust me, the stuff they gave me is so strong I can’t feel my clothes.” Holtzmann had said. “You should be more worried about me crashing the car when I don’t hit the brakes when I think I did.”

“Alright, that sounds good.” Winifred had said.

The street parking had been somewhat full, so they parked a few spots away, walking alongside each other back to the shop.

“Well, looks like you found your friends.” said Holtzmann.

“You think so?” said Winifred.

“Oh, yeah. I mean, Patty’s not gonna be separated from your shop with a crowbar, Abby rightly thinks you’re brave, and Erin shares your attraction for unattractive tweed blazers.”

“They _were_ unattractive. Then I put them on.”

Holtzmann chuckled.

“True.” she said.

Winifred opened the front door of the shop, turning to stand in the doorway.

“What about you?” asked Winifred. “Do I have a friend in you?”

There was a pause.

“Hang on.” said Holtzmann. “I’m trying to find a way to make that dirty.”

“Seems kind of obvious.” said Winifred.

“Yeah, it’s beneath us.”

The moment seemed to be passing. Winifred half gave up.

“Well, I don’t want to keep you.” said Winifred. “You’ve got a lot of healing to do.”

“Yeah, I do.”

 _Just be brave, dammit._ Winifred thought.

“And maybe once you’ve done that, we can go on a _real_ date.” said Winifred. “With food, and less ambiguous flirtation-”

Holtzmann reached forward, and cupped Winifred’s face in her hand, the leather of her glovelettes warm against her skin. Winifred met her in the middle, careful not to jostle her injury. She threaded her fingers into Holtzmann’s curly hair. Holtzmann’s lips were soft, and their movement against hers sent a flood of cool thrills through her body. Holtzmann put an arm around Winifred’s back, pressing their bodies together as the kiss deepened. Then, just as fast as it had begun, it ended. They looked at each other, short of breath.

“Are you alright?” said Winifred, worried about her chest bruises.

“Yeah.” said Holtzmann. “I mean, it smarted, but it was worth it.”

Another pause. Holtzmann nodded.

“Yeah, that was pretty good.” she said.

“Yes, quite satisfactory.” said Winifred.

“10/10, would kiss again.” said Holtzmann.

“Well done on the lip action.”

They high-fived.

“Well, I will see _you_ -” -here Holtzmann shot her with finger guns- “- on the flip-side, Winnie.”

“Till next time, Jillian.” said Winifred.

Holtzmann headed off, and Winifred closed the door. She moved the shades, and peeked out of the window. Holtzmann was casually making her way down the sidewalk. Then she started running, and pumped her fist.

“YeeeeAAAAAH!” she shouted.

Winifred grinned, then fell back against the door, and giggled like a schoolgirl until she’d laughed herself out.

 

_The End_


End file.
